


Hot For Teacher

by castlealbion



Category: Dunkirk (2017), Dunkirk (2017) RPF, Jack Lowden - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Language Kink, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-05 09:49:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13385289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castlealbion/pseuds/castlealbion
Summary: University AU where Jack is a young Classic teacher and Y/N a long time student in her final year with just one small problem. Every time he speaks in another language she gets all weak at the knees and flustered so she isn't doing well. An office meeting fixes all that.





	1. Dangerous Liasons

HOT FOR TEACHER  
You trudged down the dim, narrow hallway of the Humanities Department with a sick feeling in your stomach. Clutching your textbooks to your chest you willed your feet forward, every step echoing the sound of impending doom. Never, in four years of taking his classes, had Mr. Lowden ever called you to his office.  
Not like this.  
You had visited to hand in papers, to help with certain projects and once even to bring him coffee when he almost fell asleep in a Roman Mythology tutorial session. But never had you been ‘summoned’, until now, and you knew why. This was your last class with him before graduation,Fourth year Latin, and you were struggling to keep your head above water. Your grades were reflecting that, as were the comments in red whenever he handed your papers back  
.  
“CONJUGATE.”  
“THE CORRECT STATEMENT IS ‘HABERE’ NOT ‘HABUISSE’.”  
Over and over again you stared at his scrawling notes, trying to grasp the meaning. It wasn’t that you were failing but you were far from excelling and you had always prided myself on excellence in his classes. It’s just those classes had never been language based before.

Taking a deep breath you stood outside his office, absentmindedly running your fingers over the nameplate before knocking quietly. You absolutely did not want to face his disappointment. And under no circumstances did you want to admit to the real reason this class had become such a struggle.  
You were about to turn away like a coward when his soft voice echoed from behind the door.

“Come in.”  
Closing your eyes briefly you pushed the door open, mentally failing to prepare yourself for this meeting.

“Lock the door behind ye please.”  
His voice was quiet but curt and he didn’t even look up from whatever paper he was grading.You did as he asked, hovering in the doorway like a spooked rabbit, wanting to bolt away.

“Put yer things down over there and haf a seat.” He waved dismissively in the general direction of a bookcase and you deposited your books and bag before lowering yourself into the plush chair in front of his desk.

He didn’t acknowledge you and instead kept grading, glasses sliding down his nose, his tongue peeking out from behind his teeth, his strawberry blonde mop looking even messier than usual. You tried to look anywhere but at him as you grew more uncomfortable with every moment. You shifted in the seat as your eyes scanned the impressive bookshelves, the ancient ‘knick knacks’ and photos of class events, including one of the two of you from a demonstration done at a local high school. You looked everywhere but at him, until there was nowhere else left to look.

Your eyes found him, widening when you realized he had stopped what he was doing and was looking right at you, his fingers steepled in front of his chin. Your cheeks heated and you looked down again, fearful of what he might read on your face.

A heavy sigh from him and your heart sank.

“I’m disappointed.”

You nodded glumly, tears prickling behind your eyelids. Disappointing him was your biggest fear, right after him finding out how you felt about him.

“I know Mr. Lowden, I’m sorry.” You murmured, still looking at your hands folded in your lap.

“I’m disappointed tha ye didnae feel ye could come tae me if ye were havin problems.”

Your eyes shot up to where he sat, his gaze still hard on you. You were most likely imagining the hurt you saw in his eyes. He sighed again, running a hand over his face and the look was gone. What were you supposed to tell him to defend yourself? You had often gone to him for help before, but that was always when the reason for needing it hadn’t actually been him.  
It wasn’t like you could blurt out that the fact that the reason you were struggling was because you were completely distracted by his voice in class. Yeah, you could just see that now. Not going to happen.

“I’ve noticed tha ye’re distracted in class.”  
Yeah? No shit, whenever he opened his mouth to speak in another language you promptly lost it. Almost four years of keeping your feelings for him well hidden only to suddenly discover that THIS was the one thing you couldn’t hide your reaction to.

His long, perfect fingers were drumming the desk in front of him as he cocked his head to the side to look at you.

You felt yourself withering under his stare, cheeks bright red and having to force yourself to breathe. You just wanted to get the hell out of there, you didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to be even more disappointed in you.

Another deep breath as he got up from his seat, walking around the desk and leaning against it, his arms folded across his chest as he looked down at you.

“I thought maybe ye might benefit from a little one on one time, remove the classroom distractions and see if tha might help?”

You gasped, audibly, before you could help yourself, your mouth opening in shock and dismay. His face was stoic, his brows raised, though for a moment you swore you saw a mixture of amusement and mischief on his face.

He was obviously waiting for a response from you. What were you supposed to tell him? Sorry, no can do because every time you open your mouth now I melt into a useless puddle of frustration and dirty fantasies? Not bloody likely.

You breathed in, and then out, trying to think of an excuse. You didn’t find one. There was only one answer you knew he would accept anyway.

“Yes, of course I’m sure that would help, thank you Sir.” You sounded like an automaton, not looking at him while you recited your answer in a monotone that would have made Mulder proud.

You saw him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, heard his barely concealed chuckle, a sound that had never failed to make you tingle every time you heard it.

He pushed himself away from the desk, strolling casually to the bookshelves, pulling down a few titles here and there.

“I’ll start by giving ye some phrases and ye can translate them fer me. How does tha sound?”

His back was to you and you took the opportunity to glare at his broad – oh God was he broad – expanse, sending sharp daggers at him while your mind went nuts.

Great idea PROFESSOR, you spout off beautiful words in that voice while I sit here and squirm, trying to hide the fact that I want to leap across the room and beg you to have you way with me on your desk. You actually wondered for a moment if you could make it past him and out the door before he noticed you were gone. Then you remembered the door was locked. Wait, why HAD he asked you to lock the door?

He turned suddenly, his back against the bookcase, staring at you intently.

“Why don’t we start with a few Latin terms?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, jolted around and then slithered out onto the floor at your feet. Did he realize what he’d just done? A conversation while setting up for an orientation group last term had given him the knowledge that Dangerous Liaisons was your favorite movie. You hadn’t added that you always thought of him during THAT scene. Oh. My. God.

“Ahem?’

You pulled yourself back from your crazy place when you realized he had just said something else to you.

“What?” you said blankly, unable to stop the idiot spilling from your lips.  
He slapped the book in his hands shut abruptly and stalked over to you.

“Up.” He ordered, motioning for you to stand with a wave of his arm.

You stood, naturally, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt, body tense as he pulled the chair away from behind you. You just about leapt out of your skin when he touched your shoulder briefly, steering you to lean against the desk.

“Relax and focus.” He said with that disarmingly large smile on his handsome face.

“Easy for you to say.” You muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes as he turned away again.

“Wha was tha?” he asked, returning to his original place by the door.

“Nothing, Sir.” You sighed miserably. You were done for.

He began thumbing through his book nonchalantly. You suddenly wanted to break his pretty neck.

“Ego sum?” His eyes rose to you expectantly.

Ok, you knew this; you knew you knew this, basic first year Latin.

“I am.” You breathed out in a rush.

“Ego erat?” His voice was like chocolate, being poured over more chocolate, surrounded by caramel.

“I was.”

He nodded approvingly; seemingly oblivious to the giant puddle of desire you were turning into.

“Dabo?”

“I will.”

“Ego habeam?”

“I have.”  
“Ego postulo?”

“I need.” Need you.

A small smile as he stepped forward, his eyes on yours as you tried to remember how to breathe.

“Ego volo.” His voice went lower as he slowly rolled the words off his tongue, stepping even closer.

“I w…w…want.” You stammered. Oh God how you wanted.

He looked satisfied and, you couldn’t tell what else you were seeing in his gaze.

“Cupio?” He was directly in front of you, your eyes level with his chest. His voice made the word sound like a caress. You thought for a moment, your blood boiling in your veins.

“I desire.” You murmured.

“Beautiful. But ye still seem distracted. Maybe we should work in a language ye’re more used tae? Ease ye into it?”

How the fuck did he manage to make every word sound like an innuendo? Maybe you should just stop, or go mute?

“Ye speak French fluently righ? Why don’t we try tha fer a bit?”  
Why don’t we just kill me now and get it over with? Yeah sure my sanity is toast, may as well take my ovaries with you. Bastard. I hate you, I love you dammit. You peeked up at him, surprised to see a huge smile on his face and a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“Je traîne à travers la vie d'une erreur de capital.’ 

No !

‘I drag through life a capital error.’

‘Sa conséquence gâche mon existence.’

Please no.

‘Its consequence blights my existence.’

He leaned now against the desk beside you, head turned toward you. You could feel his breath on your neck and you fought hard against the urge to literally fall on the floor and sob. You couldn’t believe that he didn’t realize what he was doing.

‘Pendant des années, j'ai cherché à y échapper en exil amer, cherchant répit cruel, le plaisir sensuel.’

You literally couldn’t breathe, your throat constricted and you had to prop yourself on the desk with your hands before your legs gave out.

‘I’m waitin.’

You whimpered; You couldn’t help yourself. Taking a deep breath that did nothing whatsoever to calm your nerves, you translated.

‘For years I have fought to escape it in bitter exile, seeking respite in heartless sensual pleasure.’

This wasn’t happening.

‘Je sens que je peux vous parler maintenant de mon belle, car tu l’as rencontrée et vous la connaissez’

You felt him shift closer, his fingers on the desk, a hair’s breadth from your own. You didn’t know what was real or imagination anymore. Did you imagine his shallow breathing? Was your mind making up the hoarse sound of desire when he spoke? Were you hearing want or was it just you projecting your own desire for him into his silky voice?

‘I feel I can speak to you now of my lovely one, for you have met her and you know her.’

‘Perfect.’ This, he whispered, close to your ear; and his breath wafted down your neck followed by a slow roll of pure lust that had you biting your lip hard to keep from moaning out loud.

‘Elle est rare, n'est pas elle? Frais et sain, sans sol ou souillure. Je suis sûr qu'elle va se régénérer  
moi avec une vengeance.’

Oh sweet ever loving God in heaven. Your fingers gripped the desk so hard your knuckles turned white.

‘She’s a rare one, isn’t she ?’ Stop breathing on me damnit. ‘Ummmm, fresh and healthy, without soil or taint.’

You stopped, not because you didn’t know what came next, but because you did. He WOULD have to pick one of the most sexually charged speeches in English Literature for this little exercise.

‘Look at me!’ His tone was harsh, commanding and your eyes instantly snapped up to his.

‘Finish.’ It was most definitely an order. You swallowed hard, trapped in his hot gaze. That, you were NOT imagining.

‘I’m sure she’ll regenerate me with a vengeance.’

The way his eyes flared as you finished made your knees shake. His face was mere inches away; you could see the swirling ocean in his eyes, the short hairs of his unshaven skin. You could smell his breath as it mingled with your own.

‘Shall we try the Latin again?’ He whispered, a satisfied smirk appearing on his face as you quite obviously squirmed on the spot. There was no use in denying the obvious any longer. He knew, somehow he knew.

You closed your eyes against the overwhelming desire running through your body.

‘No. Open yer eyes.’ Curt, demanding and impossible to ignore. You forced myself to look at him. ‘Tha’s better, eyes on me ok ?’

You nodded; you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t have moved even if you did know. You were stuck, glued to the spot, pinned down by his eyes.

‘Digitus.’ He stated, his index finger grazing slowly over the length of your fingers where they gripped his desk, causing you to shiver.

‘Finger.’

That same finger trailed up your arm leaving a line of goosebumps in its wake, up over your almost bare shoulder, stroking up and down your neck.

‘Fauces, collus.’

‘Throat, neck.’

‘Torquem.’

‘Collar…’ You hissed as his finger traced your collarbone.

‘Nasum.’

‘Nose.’ Which you wrinkled as he tickled down the length of it.

‘Ausculum.’

‘Mouth.’ Your elbows buckled as his finger moved across your bottom lip.

‘Basiato.’

‘Kiss.’ You moaned as he chuckled in your ear.

‘Soon.’

The sensual promise in his voice almost drove you to your knees.

‘Cor.’

‘Heart.’ His finger traveled over your chest, drawing circles over your heart.

‘Alvus.’

‘Stomach.’ He rested his palm flat on your belly, his eyes still boring into yours. You could easily read the desire there now, just as you knew he could in yours. Your body was shaking as rush after rush of stabbing heat coursed through you congealing between your thighs in throbbing, damp pleasure. You rubbed your thighs together wantonly, anything to relieve the pressure made ever worse by his voice in your ear.

‘Volo te.’ This was panted, pulled from his throat roughly.

‘I will have you.’

‘Denudavit.’

‘Stripped bare.’ Your breath was shallow, each world almost a moan, incoherent, wanting.

You felt his arm slide behind your back, holding you up as your legs began to give out.

‘Volo autel vos.’

‘I.’ Thighs clenched as his voice rolled into your ear. ‘Want.’ Your head fell back. ‘You.’

‘Will ye regenerate me?’ He whispered desperately against your ear, his lips brushing your skin, his hand sliding lower on your stomach.

‘Imo.’ Yes. You ground your hips against the air, the pressure almost too much to bear.

He groaned, his fingers sliding lower, gliding over your center through the fabric of your clothing. You just about came off the desk.

‘Do ye know what ye are tae me?’ He ground out, his fingers pressing against you.

‘No.’ You panted, pushing against him.

‘Superum.’

You let loose a cry as he repeated the word in a whisper.

‘Superum.’

Heaven

You felt the release the moment he ground the word into your brain. Fireworks exploded behind your eyes as he whispered it over and over, holding your shaking body upright as you lost your breath. Everything centered on the starbursts of pleasure that slammed into every nerve-ending of your body.

When you came back to Earth, you found yourself leaning back against his arm, his fingers still resting between your legs, his voice whispering in your ear, in languages you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.  
You opened your eyes to gaze at him smiling down at you, male pride forefront in his expression.

‘Well tha was a little unexpected.’ He chuckled as you gulped. ‘I’ve never made a woman come with just the sound of ma voice before. Though I think we just got tae the root of yer, ummmm, distraction.’

His smile was affectionate and you felt a smile creep across your own face in response.

‘I think with a bit more work we can get this thing right, don’t ye think?’

You nodded, his double meaning not lost on you.  
‘Le’s get started then.’

Your eyes closed in bliss as his lips, damp and hot came crashing down on yours in a kiss that sent your toes curling in your shoes.

Yes, you thought, let’s definitely get this started.


	2. Meetings and Keats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the last encounter in Mr. Lowden's office was.....interrupted, there is hope that this one will not be.

HOT FOR TEACHER PART 2

 

 

You heard his footsteps coming down the long hallway, the only sound in the otherwise silent wing of the building. You smiled to yourself, a shiver going through you as he came even closer. He knew you were waiting for him, he had asked you there, under the pretense of a planning meeting. At least you assumed it was a pretense. You had actually gone ahead and made notes, just in case.

You hadn’t been alone with him in a week, not since the ‘language session’, and every part of you craved the sight, the smell and the sound of him. Sitting in class with him had been an exercise in restraint and torture, one you had completed only by the skin of your teeth. If he had noticed, he gave away nothing, save a secretive chuckle to himself whenever he launched into Latin.

He was outside the door now, you could hear him shuffling, juggling things in his arms to free a hand. Your back was to him as he entered but you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you heard the unmistakable sound of the lock engaging. You hoped that being Sunday morning, there would be no one around to test that door this time. No interruptions that would lead to a week of unfulfilled frustration and desire.

“Ah, good ye’re here already.” His voice was distracted as he moved across the room, depositing a takeaway cup of coffee in front of you. “Did ye eat breakfast?”

“Umm, no, actually I didn’t.” You responded, confused as he took his seat behind the desk, barely even glancing your way.

You jumped slightly when he all but tossed a paper bag into the space between you  
.  
“Go ahead, grab whatever ye like.”

Your brow furrowed as you reached out, perusing the contents. Nothing but sweet pastries, as you had come to expect from him. You snagged a turnover and took a bite, not missing the kind smile he shot you before he opened the folder in front of him.

Two hours later you were both thankful that you had prepared notes and confused. Not once had he even hinted at what occurred between you. He had kept an even, constant pace as you planned the Humanities Department mixer for students and faculty. He had not so much as shifted from his seat while you sat there, legs crossed hard against the maddening pressure. You kept a pen in your hand as you kept exchanging and writing notes, absentmindedly chewing on it whenever the urge to reach over and touch him got too strong – which was essentially anytime you weren’t talking.

You couldn’t understand how he could be so unaffected, so oblivious to your obvious discomfort and confusion. You tried to comfort yourself with the knowledge that you had planned this same event together for three years, as well as many others. You told yourself that your ‘relationship’ was so much more than that one incident. You warned yourself that perhaps that was all it was, one mistake that he regretted and wouldn’t allow to happen again. You knew he valued the academic relationship you had, as much as you did, and even though you had apparently been unable to hide your other feelings from him, he had never once made you feel anything less than valued and respected.

You told yourself that you would be content with that, if that’s what he wanted from you.

What a liar I was.

You were pulled from your thoughts when he suddenly leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied sound falling from his lips.

“Argh, no more! Me brain is sick o caterers and venues and shite tha means nothing tae me!”

Your brows rose in astonishment as he voiced his frustration. You had never known him to not enjoy the planning, he had always seemed to relish these sessions, laughing and joking his way through them. There had been none of that this time, he had been all business and, as you began to pack up your notes, you felt you could only draw one conclusion from that.

Even though your heart clenched and ached you would accept; you had no choice. You hated it, but you would take anything he chose to give you, even if it was far less than what you really wanted.

He stood, taking the long empty coffee cups and depositing them in the bin. You had your own things collected, stuffed into your bag as you stood, not looking at him.

“One more thing.” He leaned against the desk, legs crossed, dangling a paper from between his fingers, a satisfied smirk on his face.

You reached out and took it, looking down at your most recent Latin quiz, taken only days ago. You sucked in a breath when you saw the B in red ink at the top. Your knees almost buckled in relief. Had it been an A, you would have known your grade was based on something other than your actual ability in the subject. He had, with a single stroke of his pen, reinforced all the reasons you felt the way you did about him.

Your eyes grazed over the comments where you had made your mistakes. You felt him beside you, his arm against your shoulder as he leaned over, his finger pointing.

“Ye almost had tha one, only one conjugation off.”

You nodded as his finger slid down.

“This one here was supposed tae be masculine, where ye used feminine but your translation was otherwise perfect.”

Your eyes closed as his voice flowed over you, your body very much aware of his proximity, even if his wasn’t.

“I’m impressed, I knew ye just needed the right….coaxing.”

You started at the tone in his voice, turning your head sharply to meet his stare. You swallowed hard against the heat and amusement you saw there, while you watched his lips split into the wide smile you knew so well.

He moved behind you, plucking the paper from your hands and laying it on the desk. You exhaled on a delighted sigh as you felt his fingers gently sweep your hair off your neck and slide over the bared skin. Those same fingers moved down your arm, entwining tightly with your own and pulling you back against him.

Your head rolled back onto his shoulder, your joined hands resting on your stomach, holding you to him. He chuckled in your ear, his free hand rubbing up and down your side gently.

“I cry your mercy – pity – love! – ay, love!”

He whispered the line against your skin, beneath your ear.

You shuddered as his silken voice flowed into your brain, his tone inflected with desire and want. For a Classics professor, he certainly had one hell of a grasp of English Literature, and he knew just how to use it to turn you into a whimpering mess.

“I thought ye might know this one.” He murmured against your neck. “What comes next?”

You stop driving me crazy and fuck me? No, that would be way too easy for you wouldn’t it?  
You wracked your brain for the next line, his lips distracting you, his hand now covering your ribs, sitting just below your breast, close enough to feel the fast thumping of your heart.

“Merciful love that tantalizes not,” Yeah right! “Once thoughted, never-wandering, guileless love…” You broke off with a pant as his teeth sank gently into your neck, his palm covering your breast fully, his thumb scraping your nipple into life through your clothing.

Your free hand hit the desk with a slap as his hot tongue stroked over the spot he had bitten.

“Ah think maybe ye need some help wi English Lit.” He whispered roughly in your ear, both hands now working at the delicate buttons of your shirt.

“I’m not taking English Lit.” You whimpered in response as you felt his hips push against you, pinning you to the desk, the hard ridge of his arousal digging into your lower back.

“Ah think it’s time ye started then, don’t ye?”

His voice was ragged in your ear as he slid your shirt from your shoulders roughly, dropping it to the floor.

“What did you have in mind?” Your hands grasped backwards at his hips, fingers hooking into his belt loops.

“Ehehehe, I haf a few ideas. Perhaps some recitation?” His hands clasped onto your wrists pulling your fingers from him and planting your hands, palms down on the desk. “Shall I demonstrate?”

Shall I spontaneously combust right here?

You nodded mutely, not trusting yourself to speak, as you felt his hands on you again, sliding under your skirt, up over your bare thighs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. You felt him kneel behind you as he slid them down your legs, planting a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss to the back of your thigh.

“Unmasked and being seen – without a blot!”

This, he muttered against the bare skin of your lower back, his hands holding your hips tightly, turning you to face him.

“Oh! Let me have the whole, - all – all – be mine!”

Spoken while he pressed his lips around your navel. You looked down at him, his head pressed against your stomach and you felt your heart leap in your chest.

“Ready?” He sat back on his heels, then slid himself up and back into the chair you had so recently vacated.

You gulped at the sight of him, hands resting on the arms of the chair, his legs splayed, head tilted back and an expectant look on his face. You knew in an instant what he wanted of you; saw the challenge in his gorgeous eyes as he crooked his finger at you.  
Pushing myself away from the desk I stepped in front of him, dropping to my knees and leaning against him.  
“Ready. Sir.” You enunciated with a smirk, relishing the pleased look on his face.

His head fell back against the chair as you slid your hands up his thighs, enjoying the feel of crisp cotton and hard muscle under your fingers. Making short work of his belt and zipper you leaned back to admire the sight of him, his trousers around his ankles and bare, impossibly long limbs, thick thighs and pale skin, chest heaving and teeth worrying his lower lip.

He bucked his hips at the first stroke of your fingers against his length; hands gripping the arm rests tightly. You knew instinctively that you shouldn’t draw this out too long; you had both waited long enough already. You hoped there would be more time to savor one another later.

You deftly freed him from the confines of his shorts, your thumb stroking circles around the head softly, his hips rolling against you.

“Weren’t you supposed to be reciting or something?” You asked cheekily, sucking your thumb into your mouth and moaning at the taste of him on your tongue.

“Minx!” He moaned raggedly, thrusting himself toward you.

“I’m waiting.” You remembered last time and the game he played. Now he knew that you could play it right back.

“That shape, that...ugh God….fairness, that sweet minor zest.”

The line was ripped from his throat with a yelp as you leaned over, dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of his length. Your hands were flat on his inner thighs, holding him hard in place.

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ!” He panted as you repeated the process, slower this time. You pulled away and chuckled at him.

“That’s not the next line.” You mock scolded.

“I donnae care.” He muttered, his hands grasping at your arms, trying to pull you closer, his eyes burning into yours and pleading.

“You made the rules. Sir.” You stated with emphasis, loving the way his eyes flared. “You said you would demonstrate; how can I possibly know what to do if you don’t do that properly?”

Your pout was worthy of an Oscar as your fingertips fluttered up and down his cock, touching just hard enough to drive him half mad and have him twitching and jumping under you.

His eyes narrowed, and his expression grew stern.

“Ye’re goin tae be the death of me, lass!”

“Quite possibly so, Mr. Lowden, but I’ll make sure you enjoy the ride.” You winked at him, emboldened far outside your comfort zone by his reactions to you. He seemed to have a habit of bringing out the best in you, in every situation.

“That shape, that fairness, that sweet minor zest.”

He ground the words out through his teeth, his fingers grasping for purchase at your hair, your shoulders, the armrests, his arms flailing about wildly.

You smiled to yourself at the power you suddenly seemed to have over him, before blowing a long breath up the length of him.

“Oh Love – fuck! Your kiss, those hands, those – bloody hell! – eyes divine!”

His head was tilted back toward the ceiling, his back arched forward as you tore the words from him with your lips. Taking mercy on him as sweat started to bead on his brow, you finally enclosed him in your mouth as far as you could, sliding along his length with a gentle sucking motion.

He actually whimpered, the sound shooting through you in hot stabs of lust.

“That warm, white, lucent – Jesus! – million-pleasured – yes! – breast, Yourself – fuck me lass! – your soul, - in pity give me all – jus like tha!”

You had to give him credit for continuing when he was literally shuddering in his seat, his knuckles white, and his muscles clenching and unclenching with every motion of your lips and tongue on him.

You took your time, learning the feel of him beneath your tongue, his heat, his taste. You discovered the tiny spot on the underside of his cock that, when you grazed your teeth against it, would send him almost shooting off the chair.

Giving him a small moment to breathe, or at least try to, you gently bit the inside of his thigh, to show him that you needed him to continue. A few hard, deep pants later and the next line of the poem escaped his lips.  
“Withhold no atom, or I die,” He looked down at you, pushing your hair back softly from your face, his thumb stroking your cheek he dropped his hand back to his knee.

“Or living on perhaps, your wretched thrall,” You smiled around him, proud in the knowledge that you had brought THIS man, to this state. The sound of his voice and the noises he was making merely fueled your desire for him. You both knew what just the sound of his voice could do to you.

“Forget in the mist of idle misery.”

You trailed your fingers down the length you couldn’t comfortably draw into your throat, tracing every vein, every velvet smooth inch of hot skin.

“Jesus, ohhhh! Life’s purposes, – yes! – the palate of my mind.”

You allowed him the movement of his hips as your tongue, lips and hands worked the full length of his cock to the staccato beat of his poetry. Every word, a new movement, every groan, pant and sigh a vibrating response from your own throat.

His head was drumming softly against the chair, his teeth bared and his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Losing its gust, and my ambition blind!”

You moaned loudly around him, knowing he could feel in his cock, the twitching and pulsating giving rise to a jolt of lust for him so strong that you felt your own body start to shake.

“Enough! God! Luv, tha’s so good!”

Using his hands on your shoulders he pushed you off him with a ‘pop’ pulling your body up to lean flush against his heaving chest. His mouth was on yours, lips smashing against lips, his tongue pushing past your teeth demandingly, moaning when you slid your own tongue along the roof of his mouth.

Kissing him was like drinking water on a hot dry day, a burst of live giving refreshment that left you wanting more, and more. He had the skill down to an art form, every slide of his lips and tongue across yours, sending another jolt straight between your thighs. He drank from you, claiming your lips like a man who had been lost in the desert finding an oasis. You clutched at him desperately, fingers tangled in his hair tightly as you kept his mouth pressed to yours, feeling him smile against your lips.

His hands slid up and down your back, so large they almost encompassed the entire expanse of skin. You shivered in his arms, his skin leaving behind static charges that leapt through your blood. You pushed your body against his, desperate for more contact, more of him. You wanted him beneath your skin, claiming you from the inside out.

“Up.” He muttered against your mouth, rising from the chair, taking you with him and pressing you back against the desk with his body. An arm wrapped around your waist and kept you hard against him, your hands skimming under his t-shirt, enjoying the smooth, warm skin of his back. You heard the scrape of a chair across the floor, wondering briefly at its purpose before putting the thought aside in favor of enjoying his touch.

He smiled against your mouth as he lifted you slightly, seating you on the desk. At the urging of his hands on your knees, you parted your legs so he could step between them. You both groaned at the feel of his length pressed hard against your center. You knew he would be able to feel just how ready you were for him.

Resting his forehead on your shoulder, he seemed to be trying to control his breathing. His hands skimmed your back, unhooking your bra and drawing it off your body gently. You heard his breath hitch as he dragged his fingers over your breasts, your body shivering, nipples puckered and aching under his intense gaze.

His fingers slid down, pushing up your skirt to expose you to his gaze. Your palms found the desk behind you as he leaned back, mouth open, watching as he slid one long finger through your folds, down to circle your opening and back again.

He chuckled as you moaned, rolling your hips toward his fingers desperately.

“Fuck, ye are ready fer me, aren’t ye?”

Your answer was a long, low sound that sprang from behind your clenched teeth as his finger slid deep inside you.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, burning hot and full of delight.

“Watch me.” You nodded as he looked down and followed his gaze between you, quickly seeing the reason for the sounds you had dismissed earlier. Without removing his finger from inside you he sat, legs splayed, cock straining and reaching toward you. With his free hand he lifted each of your legs until your feet rested on the arm rests of the chair, thighs wide open to his hungry gaze.

You felt self conscious and fought the urge to clamp your legs shut. Almost as though he could read your mind, he pounced, his tongue swiping into your folds and across your clit in a lightning swift move. You barely had time to let loose a cry before his mouth was on you, lips sucking your clit between them to where his tongue waited to flit back and forth across it. His finger inside you was joined by another, stretching and sliding in your slick wetness.

You collapsed back against the cool wood of the desk, your body shuddering as sobs and gasps of pleasure tore from you. Lifting your head weakly you saw the vision of his messy head of hair moving between your open thighs, his eyes open and staring up at you. He held your gaze as you watched his tongue push past his lips and slowly lick from his fingers to your clit before he moaned and winked at you, promises and expectation sparkling in his eyes.

Somewhere in your lust addled brain you remembered the ‘lesson’ and fought to think of even one scrap of poetry as he leisurely lapped at you. You had nothing, a blank slate where your brain used to be, filled with visions of long fingers and blonde hair. Wait that was something. Your body twisted on the desk as you lifted your hips against his mouth, the one quote you could think of escaping between pants.

“Come with me – ahhh- and you’ll be – fffffff – in a world of – oh God, oh yes – pure imagination.”

Your head collapsed back on the desk as his fingers stilled, a vibrating, and rumbling feeling against your center causing your hips to roll. After a moment you realized that what you were feeling was his laughter. He was laughing, his mouth still pressed against you as his shoulders shook.

You started to think, but got no further than ‘why?’ before his fingers slid from your body and his hand grabbed at your hip, roughly pulling you down to straddle him in the chair. He was still laughing as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, shoulders and breasts, before pulling back to look at you.  
“Beautifully played, lass. Only ye would Wonka me right now.” He chuckled.

“It was the hair.” You managed to mutter before he pulled your head down, lips opening over yours in a toe curling kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, something you had never particularly enjoyed before. With him, with him you relished it, you indulged your body with a shudder of delight at the thought that just seconds ago HIS tongue had been between your thighs, licking at you like one of those sweets he liked so much.

Would you ever be able to comprehend that you actually, finally, now straddled his lap, or that his hands were roaming freely over your body, that he – wanted, you?

You felt him raise you up, his hands in your hair, thumbs stroking your temples.

“I need tae be inside ye.” He panted against your mouth, his hips pushing toward you. “Put me inside ye.”

That was a request you weren’t going to refuse. Bracing yourself with one hand on his shoulder, you reached between you, lightly enclosing his cock in your palm. Enjoying his whimper and the feeling of him throbbing in your hand you held him still while you gently rocked yourself against him, gasping when the wet, seeping head of him slid against your clit.

“Look at me.” You whispered his request from earlier as his eyes opened to your. You saw understanding as he read your gaze. The reassurance you needed that this meant something to him. His gaze softened as he nodded, an affectionate smile spreading over his lips.

You took that, and without moving your eyes from his you sank down slowly onto him. You panted and gasped as his thickness filled you, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you adjusted to his size inside you. You saw his teeth clench as he fought against his body’s natural instinct to thrust, allowing you time to get used to him.

The blinding pleasure you felt as he was fully seated in you was almost too much. You felt your nerve endings exploding under your skin as his hands left your hair, skimming down your body and coming to rest on your rear, his lips attaching to your collarbone.

Under the direction of his hands you gave your hips an experimental roll, almost jolted off him by the thrill that shuddered through you. He responded with a thrust of his hips, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he moved you to meet him.

You cried out, your hands gripping the chair by his head as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, each movement of his cock sliding in and out of you causing white lights to burst behind your eyelids.  
Feeling a tugging sensation that shot straight between your thighs you looked down at his mussed hair once more. Your position had your chest in front of his face and he was taking full advantage, his lips, tongue and teeth tugging at your nipples, his hands guiding your body as you moved on him, faster as his thrusts became harder, driving himself even deeper inside of you.

“Haf ye thought abou this?” His harshly muttered question broke into the fog of pleasure that surrounded you.  
You furrowed your brow in confusion for a moment.

“Haf.” A hard thrust of his hips. “Ye.” Thrust. “Thought.” Thrust. “Abou.” Thrust. “This?”

“Yes.” You murmured, grinding on him against the growing pressure between your thighs. “Yes, I’ve thought about it.”

You cupped your hands over his jaw, tilting his face up to yours, your eyes taking in every perfect detail, drinking in the sight of him.

“I’ve thought about you for four years.” You watched his eyes flare in pleasure. “Every time you stood at that podium I thought about this would feel.”

“And do I live up tae yer expectations?” There was a slight, something in his tone, a harshness mixed with self-doubt and a fear of rejection. You saw it for what it was because it was reflected in your own thoughts.

For the first time you let the mask slide from your face. You stopped hiding your feelings behind the façade, allowing everything you felt for him, as teacher, mentor, friend and now lover shine in your eyes as you gazed down at him. You stripped yourself naked in front him, your body shaking as you let him search your face for the truth.

“No-one, nothing but you. Only you.” You whispered, your fingers trailing over his neck. You held nothing back, knowing that somehow this was what he needed from you. His hopeful nod almost broke you as his long arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you crushed to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. You responded in kind, your arms sliding around his neck, elbows on his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his hair.

You moved desperately against one another, your hips meeting his every thrust with a sigh and a whisper.

“Only you.”

His teeth bit into your shoulder as he pushed up into you harder and faster. Your whole body shivered with the pleasure of it.

“Say ma name.” This he panted against your neck, his movements becoming erratic.

“Jack.” You breathed it over him, the first time you had ever spoken his name out loud to his face. You felt the great man shudder in your arms.

“Again.” He begged.

You leaned down, pressing your lips against his forehead, his eyelids, nose, cheeks and finally his mouth, whispering his name each time.

“Jack…oh Jack.” You loved the feel of it on your tongue.

Hearing his name fall from your lips sent him into a frenzy of movement. His hands rested solidly on your hips, holding you still as he thrust up into you over and over.

Your head flew back as you felt his fingers between you, his thumb gliding over your clit as your bodies ground together.

“Come wi me.” You heard him groan as your nails dug into his shoulders. You moved on him frantically as his fingers worked their magic. You were desperate to ease the pressure and find release but at the same time you never wanted him to stop.

You could feel that he was close, his breath was coming in hard pants, and his thighs were shaking beneath you, groans and grunts filling the air with every movement of his hips.

Bringing your hands up to his face again you rested your forehead against his, eyes locked together.

“Yours.” You whispered. “Only yours.”

He let go with a roar and thrust up so hard you thought you would feel him in your stomach. The telltale swelling of his cock inside you, his fingers between your thighs and his yell of pure bliss combined to send you over the edge. You could feel the wet heat of his release within you as you finally exploded from the inside out, every hair on end, every molecule tingling in pleasure. His eyes stayed on yours the whole time as you groaned and moved together, your hearts pounding dangerously fast, your breath intermingling into each other’s open mouths.

“So beautiful, so good.” Were the words he was mumbling against your lips as you came back to Earth. His arms were tight around you once more, holding you close as he pressed his lips to yours again in a slow, tender kiss that left you breathless.  
Your fingers traced the lines of his face, from his ‘cut from glass’ cheekbones to his aristocratic nose. Everything about him was beautiful to you, and never more so than right now, with his sweaty, mussed up hair, flushed skin, nail marks on his shoulders and his now sated member still inside you.

His eyes caught yours and he smiled at what he saw before pulling you down for another soul searing kiss.

For the first time, words were useless between you, everything said with glances, touches and sighs.

There was nothing else that needed to be said.


End file.
